


Rather Impulsive

by confidence_in_sunshine



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, PWP, desk sex (sort of), look at this baren field where all my plots grow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-16 22:50:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16962960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/confidence_in_sunshine/pseuds/confidence_in_sunshine
Summary: It was one thing for Zelda to question herself on why she was at a mortal parent teacher night and something else entirely to question why in Satan’s name she was under the desk of one of those teachers.





	Rather Impulsive

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to @Dragonwings13 & @Vanargandr for the prompt on this one!

It really should be Hilda standing here, not her, Zelda thinks. All she can smell is that horrible scent that one can only associate with a public school, mixed with the cloying tang of cheap wine and expired junk food. The worm that is Principal Hawthorne has already chastised her for smoking inside the school auditorium, as if she was some fifteen year old girl and not a centuries old witch with the power to make his skin peel off.

And that’s why Zelda’s currently standing by the doorframe of the school auditorium, trying not to interact with any of the other parents. Not that they really try, they take one look at her and in their simple mortal heads know not to bother the redhead dressed in black. She only has one more interview left and she’s enjoying the solitude while it lasts. Of course, the peace is short lived for there’s someone working there way towards her and Zelda has to still the urge to roll her eyes at the sight of Mary Wardwell sauntering towards her like some over groomed panther. Honestly, the woman needed to lessen the volume in her hair and learn how to properly educate Zelda’s niece.

It had always been easier to let Hilda be the one to deal with any of the socialising required for Sabrina’s mortal education. Zelda had put her foot down about that; if Hilda had wanted Sabrina to go to a mortal school so desperately, instead of being homeschooled, then she would be the one to endure the endless parent teacher nights and the multiple requests to help with various school charities. The thought of having to bake made Zelda positively ill. So, no, it was all up to Hilda and when Sabrina was baptised and attending the Academy of Unseen Arts, then would Zelda get involved in her niece’s education.

Unfortunately, because her sister has finally managed to embarrass her way out of the coven and into a torrid little bookstore, Zelda is the one here. And the infuriating schoolmarm is now standing in front of her, all lovely smiles and welcoming words. Zelda is fairly certain this particular teacher shouldn’t be dressed the way she is - anything she’d heard from Sabrina in the past about her favourite teacher certainly hadn’t conjured up an image of red lips and body hugging clothing. It was entirely inappropriate.

“Zelda, isn’t it?” asks the woman, another infuriating smile gracing her mouth. And it’s quite a mouth, Zelda thinks, but she shoves that thought aside.

“Yes,” comes the reply, sharp and quick. “Mary Wardwell?”

“Oh, you remember, how delightful.”

“I find it hard to forget the names of excommunicated witches that let my niece perform exorcisms,” says Zelda as they leave the auditorium.

They’re walking down the school hall now and it’s just the sound of their heels clicking in sync. Chit chat isn’t something Zelda is interested in, especially not with someone like Mary Wardwell. Another excommunicated witch in their midst? Lucifer save her from another witch with nothing but good intentions. When they reach the woman’s office and are seated, Zelda immediately begins counting the minutes until she can leave. She doesn’t trust this woman and doesn’t believe any of the nonsense she’s told Sabrina. The fact that Edward had supposedly asked this woman to look after Sabrina was entirely suspicious. Her brother had always confided in her, and so Zelda did not trust the smiles and the overly sweet voice. It was possible that the woman infuriated her on another level due to the smiles and the sweet voice but Zelda wasn’t that desperate. She could do better than a witch turned school teacher. So, she just sits there, offering dry comments as the seconds tick by. It’s with a very forced smile on Zelda’s part that the interview ends. And with a returning smile - or at least a curve of the lips, it wasn’t a smile, more a smirk, and Zelda didn’t trust it one bit - that Mary Wardwell bids her good evening and excuses herself back to the main auditorium.

What Zelda does now is not something she’s particularly proud of, but right now there isn’t much pride left to be had in the Spellman name and Zelda really doesn’t see the point anymore. It’s a need she has now, to know who this woman is that’s trying to “help” her niece. Instead of leaving the office, she has the door shut with a wave of her hand and is pulling open drawers carefully. It’s when she has one desk drawer open and her hands are scrabbling through paper, scraps of newspaper and about three different lipsticks of nearly the same shade that she hears a tapping on the nearby window. There’s a small bird out there - a raven, by the looks of it - and she just stares it down before letting a small burst of magic send it reeling back from the ledge.

In hindsight, it was an impulsive thing to do and rather stupid. Zelda should’ve realised it was the witch’s familiar but she isn’t thinking about that, nor does she think to check any of the other windows to make sure they are closed. All thoughts freeze when she hears the sound of people talking on the other side of the door. In a sudden panic, she shuts the draw carefully and seeming to forget that she has the unholy powers of Satan, decides that hiding under the large desk is a better idea than that using magic to get out. And now that’s she wedged under there, thankful that this particular teacher feels the need to have such a large desk and one with a large front panel, she listens as the door is opened and people enter.

It’s Miss Wardwell and what sounds like two other parents. Zelda’s holding her breath the moment the teacher’s chair slides back and she feels herself choke just a little when a pair of neatly crossed legs are then now perched in front of her. They were about a few inches from her face and there was a unholy earthy, yet tantalising, scent wafting towards Zelda in the cramped space under the desk. It would’ve been fun to reach out and grab one of those legs, she muses. But then, she’d have to explain herself to the parents currently listening to Miss Wardwell discuss their child. It was one thing to question herself on why she was at a mortal parent teacher night and something else entirely to question why in Satan’s name she was under the desk of one of those teachers.

A sound nearly makes Zelda scream when she hears it a few minutes later. It’s a shrill squawk and it’s then that she realises it’s the raven from before. And that’s when the panic sets in because it sounds like the raven is inside the room and she curses under her breath. She hears it make another shrill noise and one of the parents give a surprised scream. There’s nothing but silence after and Zelda’s fairly certain she going to pass out from holding her breath. All she can hear is the sound of the raven making small noises - clearly telling it’s mistress that there’s another witch under her desk - before the sound of the bird taking flight is heard and a window is slammed shut.

“Silly things,” Zelda hears Mary Wardwell say to the obviously stunned parents. “Keeps trying to come into my office. It doesn’t realise it’ll get into lots of trouble if it gets caught.” There was a laugh here, a warm sound that makes something race down Zelda’s spine.

The minutes go by at a snail pace while Zelda waits for the other shoe to drop. When she hears the parents finally leave and sees Mary Wardwell stand to farewell them, she does her best to compose herself. It feels like years before she hears footsteps across the carpet and Zelda’s vision is once more that of a pair of legs.

“I know you’re under there.”

Swallowing hard, and gathering as much dignity as it is possible when one is under a desk, she pushes her hair out of her face and tries to crawl as gracefully as she can out from under it. But Zelda only gets her head out before what feels like invisible hands are holding onto her ankles. A feeble sound escapes her lips as she tries to overpower the clear use of magic but it isn’t working. Which is absurd. This woman is a teacher. A teacher!

“Let me up then,” Zelda hisses, glaring up at the woman standing before her.

Mary Wardwell just bends down and lets a hand delicately grasp Zelda’s chin.

“Oh, Zelda, what were you thinking?” she asks, her lips quirking into a grin.

“How are you doing this?” comes the quick retort as Zelda bats the other woman’s hand away from her face.

“It’s a simple spell,” says Mary Wardwell with a grin. “You can’t move until I let you.”

Jaw locking, Zelda tries to fight it but it was no use. And it was very obvious the other witch wasn’t making much effort at all. “I swear to Lilith I shall ruin you.”

Rep lips part and a laugh spills from them. “Oh, my sweet Zelda, is that a threat or a promise?”

It was possible that Zelda had never met someone more infuriating before. And what was worse, was the way the woman was watching her struggle.

“Do you doubt my oath?” she says through gritted teeth. “I don’t know who you are but you are no excommunicated school teacher. And I refuse to let you be around Sabrina.”

“So fiercely protective, aren’t we?” says the woman with another lascivious smile. “And I don’t doubt you at all. Why, I’ve heard all of your prayers.” The tip of her tongue darts out and Zelda feels her pulse thud as she watches it trace the seam of those red lips. “Every single one.” The hand is back on her chin now but Zelda doesn’t make any effort to remove it this time. “You’ve always been very devout, and I appreciate that in a witch.”

A choked breath manages to escape then before the brunette is standing, just leaving the sight of her legs once more. Zelda’s mind is working overtime, and she’s coming to the horrible conclusion that she’s been incredibly rude to a deity she has spent her life worshiping. It couldn’t be true, but here she was, bound to the floor. And the look on that woman’s face was enough, it was in those eyes.

“I-” Zelda begins but she’s swiftly cut off.

“Not now,” comes the sweet voice from above. “We can discuss it later - I still have a job to do. Keep quiet.”

Then Zelda is once more watching as the woman walks away and is left stuck in the office. All she can hear is the muffled sounds coming from the auditorium down the hall and she’s highly regretting ever leaving the house at all. What a mess. The Mother of Demons has her trapped under a desk of all things. Zelda’s a complex mix of wanting to stay as quiet as a mouse and also demand that the demon explain herself. She has done countless things in the name of Lilith, and sometimes she has felt the presence of someone. A touch, a whisper - that indescribable tension of someone just within reach. Now those feelings are curling around her now, that same power. There’s no question in her mind now about who Mary Wardwell is. She can still feel those fingers on her chin and see that look in those intensely cool eyes. It does make a flash of pride rise within her that the Dark Lord has sent his most trusted ally to help her niece. But there’s still the anger there that she wasn’t _told_.

Normally a very composed person, Zelda is struggling when the door is opened and another pair of parents are ushered in. And then there is the chair sliding back once more as Mary- Lilith, she corrects herself, takes her seat.

After about a minute Zelda has had enough, so she lets one hand inch forward and wrap itself around one of the woman’s ankles. The skin’s soft and Zelda can’t help the way her nails dig in. She feels the woman stiffen and then relax, so she digs them in further. There’s the sound of what could have been a gasp but that’s all she hears before the demon continues to speak. It is intoxicating, Zelda has to admit, to be where she is right now. The form the Mother of Demons had chosen is entirely delectable and the fact that she isn’t some school teacher and is instead the embodiment of unholiness is enough to send a shudder down her spine. Steadying her hand, Zelda lets it slide further up Lilith’s leg until her hand is curling around behind one knee.

If she is going to be trapped under here, she wasn’t going to let her have all the fun. While Zelda is indeed fiercely devout, she didn’t like being completely left at the mercy of another. Her feet were still bound to the floor and so she manages to contort herself more towards the other woman. She now has both hands gripping a leg each and is forcing them apart. A smirk graces her face when she hears a very distinct grunt from above.

“Are you all right, Miss Wardwell?” comes the voice of one the parents.

“Yes, sorry, as I was saying…”

A few seconds tick by and when Zelda’s sure Lilith has relaxed a little, she carefully inches closer until her breath is ghosting across the skin of the other woman’s knees as her fingers push the skirt of her dress up further. There’s a shudder when her nail scrapes across the flesh and she feels the pull low in her stomach when those legs spread even further on their own. A hiss from above when Zelda lets her mouth make contact with the skin on the demon’s inner thigh. Another sound from above as her teeth slid across the skin-

“I’m sorry, there seems to be something wrong with my desk,” a sing song voice says before a hand reaches under the desk and grabs a fistful of Zelda’s hair. “Stop that right now, Zelda,” Lilith whispers out of the corner of her mouth. “Do not test me.”

“You are testing me,” Zelda mutters back, her upper body now sprawled across the other woman’s lap.

A flash of a smile before Lilith’s sitting straight once more in the chair and assuring the parents everything is fine - nothing to worry about. There’s a hand still wrapped tightly in Zelda’s hair and so she makes no ceremony about letting one hand travel up the rest of the other woman’s leg until her fingers finally reach the heat radiating from between them. It amazes her briefly that the demoness can keep talking as Zelda lets her fingers slide underneath the fabric of the underwear at her fingertips until they’re raking through warm flesh and wet curls. Her touches are teasing and light, and it’s a heady sense of power she feels racing down her spine as she feels the Mother of Demons trying to keep her composure. Nobody makes a fool of Zelda Spellman, no matter who or what they are.

When she hears the woman speak next through, the voice is lower and Zelda grins to herself again. There’s a note of desperation in there, she can hear it. All Zelda wants is to prove her own word, she will ruin her. In a flash she has two fingers plunging into Lilith’s wet heat before she taking them back out just as quickly. Her mouth is pressed against the inside of one thigh as she bites down, trying to elicit any kind of reaction from the unholy goddess. There’s a sharp tug on her hair and Zelda is struggling not to make any noise herself when she hears Lilith speak.

“ _Yes_ \- I mean,” comes the sweet voice from above, “yes, Mr and Mrs Wilson, your daughter is doing well but she’ll need to improve. I have a few students-” another tug on Zelda’s hair here, bringing her face between the demon’s thighs- ”that know they can put in more effort than they are now.”

If she’s going to tease and taunt her from up there then Zelda isn’t going to take it. With more force than is really required, she’s shoving the rest of the woman’s skirt up until it’s bunched around her waist before she vanishes her underwear completely. Before the Mother of Demons can comprehend what Zelda has done, she’s got her face buried between her thighs and is letting her tongue explore the glorious taste of an aroused demon.

Normally, Zelda isn’t one for giving and when she does it’s usually something she does in half measures because she damn well cares more about her own pleasure than whomever has their hands on her. But when you find yourself at the feet of an unholy goddess, and that is to say, The Unholy Goddess, you can throw all those old assumptions about yourself into the cauldron and let them boil away. Because right now, Zelda is currently riding on a sinfully high pleasure that the Mother of Demons is currently struggling to keep her voice even while Zelda lets her fingers replace her mouth. Two fingers are once more slipped inside the wet heat and twisting before a hand is gripping onto Zelda’s shoulder, the nails managing to bite through her clothes and into her skin. She can feel the woman’s hips struggling not to buck off the chair and Zelda uses her other hand to keep her pressed into it. It’s cruel, she knows, the way she’s constantly denying any sort of relief but the carnal pleasure of touching this woman is simply too much for Zelda. She can barely think and her own her cunt is throbbing with need. Without much preamble she removing her hand from Lilith’s hip and shoving it up her own skirt to try and release some of the tension that’s making her spiral out of control.

It’s short lived though because distantly Zelda hears the woman bid the mortals goodnight and so her hands slow, listening attentively. Of course the demon doesn’t move from her seat though. How can she when she has Zelda’s fingers not so delicately teasing her cunt? Lilith opens her mouth to speak but she’s cut short when there’s a knock at the door and someone else enters. When they speak, Zelda feels herself recoil as much as she can when she recognises the voice of Principal Hawthorne.

“Principal Hawthorne, what is it?” snaps Lilith, the tone of voice clearly frustrated.

“How is everything going, ah, Miss Wardwell?”

“Fine, I’m a bit busy if you don’t mind.”

“Yes, yes,” comes the muttered response and Zelda can picture him, his stupidly eager face and the insipid smile he’d have plastered on it. “I was just wondering if you wanted to, ah, after the interviews-”

“Oh I can’t, I’m quite busy tonight,” comes the sharp interruption from the woman. She gives a sharp squeeze on Zelda’s shoulder. “I’m having a few problems with a wayward pupil and I need to settle on teaching her a lesson.”

“Maybe tomorrow?”

The demon says nothing in response but Zelda hears the man leave and the door click shut. Finally the chair is pushed back and Zelda is being dragged out from under the table, her feet finally free from their magical binds. Now that she’s standing, and face to face with the Mother of Demons, Zelda suddenly doesn’t feel so brave and the look on the other woman’s face is enough to make her want to crawl back under it. The woman takes a predatory step towards her and Zelda doesn’t realise she’s moved until her hip knocks into the desk.

“I-”

The words are barely out of her mouth before the woman is on her, her mouth claiming Zelda’s in a primal clash of tongues and teeth. A horrible, desperate sound can be heard and Zelda comes to the realisation that it’s her making those wanton moans. She’s pressing herself against any part of the other woman she can reach and letting her hands sink into the mass of dark hair. All sense seems to have flown out into the night because right now she’s half sprawled across a desk, the goddess of demons spreading her legs open and running her hands up Zelda’s thighs. It’s highly surprising that nobody has come running into the office because the moment one of those hands makes contact with the dripping heat between her legs, the sounds coming out of her mouth are nothing but unholy praises about the woman now with her hand tracing hard circles against her clit. It’s entirely obscene how desperate she feels right now, but she damn well doesn’t care. She’s been so wound up the last few weeks that it’s such a relief to feel such a rush of pleasure. Especially since half of her problems have been because of this woman - and even though she may be the Mother of Demons, Zelda still feels like she deserves this pleasure in return for all the suffering she’s had to deal with while the demon has been pretending to be Sabrina’s teacher.

The building tension between her legs is threatening to send her over the edge but it’s constantly being denied. Those fingers are teasing her flesh and making the dark surge of want even stronger than before. It’s when she manages to focus on the woman bearing over her that she catches the look in those eyes; they’re blown wide and completely fixed on Zelda. A shiver slides down her spine and it’s incredibly indecent the way the woman above her smiles. It’s a wicked smile, and the red lipstick she always has painted on her lips is smeared across her mouth. In Zelda’s mind, all she can see is the predator ready to devour the prey and in all honesty she is more than happy to lie there and let this witch do whatever in Satan’s name she wants - just as long as it never stops.

There’s the tickle of warm breath by her ear before she hears Lilith whisper in her ear. That voice, which is normally so sweet, is warm and rich and far too sinful when it speaks her name.

“Zelda,” she purrs, her hands still working between her thighs. “I’d love to give you what you want, but you’re going to have to ask. Nicely.”

With hands gripping at the other woman, Zelda can barely focus. Her eyes slip closed when she feels nails pressing into her inner thigh before there’s a mouth joining the fingers currently teasing her. Whatever self control she had been attempting to hold onto is now gone, her back is arching off the desk while she’s hissing out whatever sordid plea she can think of.

There’s no response though, just the sounds of a low laugh and then both mouth and fingers are drawing away from between her legs.

“I’m so sorry, Zelda, but I do need to see to my next interview.”

The anger bubbles inside her stomach and she opens her mouth to retort but the demon cuts her off, her fingers on Zelda’s lips. The taste of her own cunt on her lips just makes the fire still burning inside her rage even further and she takes a bite at those fingers. The smile returns to Lilith face and she cocks her head to the side.

“Maybe next time you’ll take parent teacher interviews more seriously?”

A second later Zelda finds herself standing on the front porch of the Spellman Mortuary. Her mouth is hanging open, she cannot believe she’s been banished away. Her clothes are perfectly neat and she quickly checks her reflection in the window - not a hair out of place. When the door opens and a surprised Sabrina greets her, Zelda does her best to sweep in as if her thighs aren’t completely dripping with her own arousal and her whole being isn’t aching with an unfulfilled need.

She gives a few non-committal responses to her niece in regards to how the night went. And desperately reaches for the decanter on the table, pours a large measure and swallows it in one shuddering breath.

“Wow,” says Sabrina, sitting down at the table with her aunt, “I didn’t think it would be that traumatic on you, Auntie Z.”

Zelda doesn’t say anything, she just crosses her legs firmly under the table and pours herself another glass.

“Did they say something bad? Miss Ward-”

“Sabrina, do not speak to me about that woman.”

  
In some ways, Sabrina is so like Hilda that it makes Zelda want to scream. One of things they seemingly have in common is not knowing when to keep their mouths shut.

“I was just going to say that Miss Wardwell did say she would make it…” Sabrina trails off here a moment as her brow furrows in thought. ”Oh, yeah, when I told her you were coming and not Aunt Hilda, she said she’d make it as pleasurable as she possibly could.”

Zelda just tries not to choke on her drink.

**Author's Note:**

> I have proofread this but there's probably still errors, so apologies! I'm just too lazy to check it again.


End file.
